Marie Ferrarella - Cavanaugh Undercover

Okay, if he wanted to play word games, she’d play along. Anything to gain his confidence—as far as it went. “I heard that time was scarce and that you and your ‘people’ would be leaving the country very soon.”

He sneered at her gullibility—or at least that was his inference. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“Then you’re not leaving soon?” she asked, watching his eyes for some sort of a sign that would give him away one way or another. When he didn’t answer, she looked to the man who had brought her here for a confirmation or denial.

“Don’t look at him,” Roland warned sharply. “He doesn’t have an answer to that any more than you do. You see, I do believe in equality. You will both be kept in the dark until such time as I feel you need to be enlightened. Not a moment sooner,” he told her.

“All right, then, for the time being, I’ll look at those photographs you have.” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew it wasn’t even going to be that easy—seeing a photograph of Janie wouldn’t confirm that she was still alive. But she had to try even though she knew she was playing right into his hands. Maybe she could use that, she told herself. Use that to win the miserable human being over.

It was a long shot, but right now she didn’t have anything else.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “Come back tomorrow and perhaps I’ll let you look at them then.”

She played along and looked confused even though in her heart, she knew that the man was enjoying asserting his power.

“You just offered to show those photographs to me now,” she protested, delivering just a part of the frustration she was beginning to feel building up inside her.

“I changed my mind. Women aren’t the only ones with that prerogative, you know.” The smile on his face indicated just how pleased he was with himself. “Give one of my men a cell number where you can be reached and I’ll call if and when I want to see you again. You can go,” he commanded like the tyrant he aspired to be within this growing organization, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

Inwardly, Tiana was seething, but she couldn’t afford to indulge herself and show it. Somehow, exercising supreme control, she managed to keep her feelings under wraps.

“Tomorrow, then,” Tiana said to him as civilly as she could.

“Tomorrow,” Roland said with a smirk. “Or the next day.”

She turned on her heel and began to walk away. It was either that or lose all control and strangle the pompous ass.

When Brennan fell into place beside her, she looked at him almost accusingly. “I can find my way out of here without your help.”

“I’m your ride, remember?” he reminded her cheerfully.

Roland, apparently, hadn’t heard him say it. “Where are you going?” he demanded, eying Brennan, as if outraged that he’d leave without being dismissed.

“I’m taking her back to her car,” Brennan answered. “I drove her here, thinking it was better if she didn’t have a way to leave from the hotel unless you wanted her to leave.”

Roland appeared rather impatient for a second, then shrugged.

“Not half-bad thinking. All right, be quick about it—and then come back. I want details from you about that motel room and then I might have another assignment for you. See if you’re worth my time,” he said loftily. “So whatever you’re going to do,” he ordered, and it was clear he wasn’t referring to just a simple drop-off and delivery, “make sure you do it fast.”

“I’ll see what I can do to move things along,” Brennan replied respectfully, playing up to the man because there were a great many lives at stake if he played the game correctly and well.

He was well aware that the woman beside him—who in his opinion remained an enigma—clearly had contempt in her eyes when she looked at him.

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